While narrowing it down to the humans made things easier, the task of choosing the right mother-to-be is still daunting.
Had she needed to be a princess or a queen, that would have been easy, for only a few every rose to those positions. But my Son is becoming Man not for the kings and queens, but for everyone.
So this girl must be nothing, coming from nothing. She’ll be poor, working-class, everyday, plain in appearance, and meek in personality. She’ll be unsure of herself and fill of doubts. Constantly afraid of failing at even those things she can do better than anyone else.
And yet when she gives birth to my Son, time will break, Creation will rejoice, and the for winds will come to worship.
Choosing this one will take me more time than anything I’ve ever done to date, will take more thought than it took to build Creation itself.